


In Which One Of Kurt Hummel's Half-Baked Plans Comes To Fruition

by Cerberusia



Category: Glee
Genre: Blow Jobs, Locker Room, M/M, Oral Sex, School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-21
Updated: 2011-03-21
Packaged: 2017-10-17 04:48:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/173064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerberusia/pseuds/Cerberusia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Sam/Kurt) Kurt wants to thank Sam for defending him against Karofsky. With a blowjob. Sam is not averse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which One Of Kurt Hummel's Half-Baked Plans Comes To Fruition

There are advantages to spending a year or so harbouring an obsessive crush. For one, it's made Kurt really appreciate the finer points of stalking - particularly stalking jocks. Within a week of hanging around the gym and locker room (doing his best to simultaneously avoid Karofsky), he's discovered Sam's schedule. As he suspected, it involves a lot of time spent in the gym. Unfortunately, it doesn't involve a lot of time spent in the gym alone - he doesn't pick peak times or anything, but there's always at least one other person regularly there. This is a problem.

Two weeks later on a Thursday, the guy who usually shares the gym with Sam after school leaves early to meet his girlfriend. Kurt sees his chance and leaps on it.

He waits until Sam comes back to the locker room, his hair and clothes dark with sweat. He pauses a moment upon seeing Kurt hovering at one side, but just says 'Hey, Kurt,' and carries on to his locker to fetch his clothes.

Now or never. Kurt runs over the plan in his head - which now seems pitifully inadequate - and gathers his confidence to say:

"I know I thanked you at Glee practice for your part in the, er, revenge on Karofsky, but I wanted to thank you again." He sounds horrendously formal. "So...thanks." This is probably not the best start.

"No problem, dude." Sam, having gathered his clothes, dumps them on a bench and proceeds to strip off his tank top. Kurt is momentarily distracted by _those abs, **god**_.

"So, I wanted to - do something. To say thank you." Here comes the difficult part.

"You don't need to," says Sam dismissively. "It was the right thing to do, you know?" He's rifling through the pile of clothes, presumably to find his shirt.

"No, I really want to do something to thank you."

Sam pauses in his search and squints at him, confused (his default expression, actually. Kurt likes 'em big and dumb).

"Like what?" he says.

"I. Um. I thought-" Confidence! "Actually, I thought I could, y'know." This is going _so_ well. Pull yourself together, Hummel.

"Seriously, dude, spit it out." He turns back to finding his shirt, and Kurt sees his window of opportunity slipping away. Panicked, he blurts out:

"I was thinking I could maybegiveyouablowjob."

Sam pauses.

Kurt tries not to hyperventilate.

At this point, Sam could say a lot of things. The most likely one is 'Not a chance in hell."

Instead, he says:

"D'you really want to?" He's turned fully round to face Kurt, who once again has an absolutely _brilliant_ view of his torso. He takes advantage of the opportunity to ogle.

"'Cause I mean," Sam goes on, "I think it'd be pretty cool. But I don't want you doing it just because you think you have to."

Kurt just gapes at him (a very unattractive look on him, he knows). He knows that Quinn hasn't been putting out, which is part of why he thought Sam might be up for it. He also knows that Sam is apparently a nice, rather dorky guy with a decent moral code. He's even gathered that Sam doesn't give a shit about him being gay. But this calm, casual, even _friendly_ response to his offer of a blowjob is beyond his wildest imaginings. If this is the kind of guy that Sam's previous school produces, he wants to go there and fuck every single male he can find.

Tearing himself away from his orgiastic fantasies, he hastens to reassure Sam:

"No, no, I'd, um, I'd really like to." He's nervous, but he must sound suitably sincere because Sam shrugs and says,

"Then, sure. Is it easier for you if I stand or sit?"

All-boys school, Kurt reminds himself. All-boys school. _God_ , he clearly needs to go to one of those.

"Uh, sit. I think." Any minute now, Sam is going to ask him if he's done this before, he just _knows_ , and the answer will be humiliating and awkward for both of them. So Kurt strides over to him and drops to his knees before either of them can say anything stupid. It's only once he gets there that he remembers that actually, he's not done this before. For a moment, all he can feel is sheer, unadulterated panic.

Then Sam coughs, just quietly, and the world snaps back into focus. _You can do this, Hummel,_ he thinks, and takes a deep breath. Observing Sam's still-clothed crotch, it occurs to him that getting his pants off is probably a good place to start. He puts his fingers at the top of the waistband to carefully pull them down his hips, down past the first curls of public hair and Sam lifts his pelvis to help him get them all the way down his legs and completely off.

Kurt is now confronted with his first ever live cock. Absurdly, his first thought is:

He was right - Sam isn't a natural blond.

Then his brain starts functioning properly again and his second thought is _holy shit, COCK_. It isn't hard, just looking slightly interested. It's uncircumcised. Kurt really, really wants to touch it.

And, as he realises after a moment of just staring, he can. Tentatively, he reaches out one hand to stroke his index finger down it, from the head to the root, and watches it twitch. This, he realises a little dizzily, is _power_.

He grips it the same way he does his own, and experiments by swiping his thumb over the head. The muscles in Sam's thigh tense and untense. He does it again. Tense-untense. He shifts his grip a bit and starts to properly rub the head, the rest of his hand sliding back and forth on the shaft a little, then more.

Sam's making soft _huh, huh_ noises, and Kurt realises that he's really jerking the guy off. It's hypnotising, his first time touching another boy's cock; it feels a bit like the hand that he's watching doesn't really belong to him, except he can feel the texture of it on his skin, a hard, hot weight in his hand.

His lips are dry, so he flicks his tongue out to wet them - oh, right, blowjob. A breath, and he slowly lowers his head to take the tip carefully in his mouth, not actually touching it with his lips, just his tongue. It tastes like salt.

He's terrified of accidentally using his teeth, so he doesn't close his mouth around it: instead, he licks around the crown, up and down the shaft, in the slit. It's probably not the best blowjob in the world, and his jaw has started to ache by the time Sam starts muttering that he's going to come, but his dick is hard in his jeans, arousal roiling hot in his abdomen.

He gets his mouth off Sam's cock just in time - come spatters his face, some getting in his hair, miraculously none in his eyes, a fair bit on his mouth. He licks his lips to taste it - salty again.

It hits him: he's just sucked a guy off. There's another boy's come on his face. That does it - he all but rips open his jeans, and comes within about two seconds of getting his hand on his dick, sprawled there on the floor, getting off to the memory of Sam coming on his face. It's filthy. Sam watches all the while, his face open but his eyes dark.

They stay like that for a moment or two, both breathing hard, before Sam stands up and starts getting dressed again, and Kurt follows suit. When he goes to the sinks to wash his face and stomach, he's startled by how _debauched_ he looks - cheeks flushed, pupils dilated and how has his hair got that messed up?

After a moment of staring at his reflection like it belongs to someone else, he decides that he rather likes it.

When he goes back into the locker room, he anticipates awkwardness - but Sam, now dressed, just claps him on the shoulder, says, 'Later, man' with what appears to be a genuine smile, and saunters out the door without the slightest concern.

Kurt stands there for a few seconds, stunned, before pulling himself together and doing the same. He'll have to think up some excuse to give his father for his lateness, but all the drive home he can barely concentrate on the road for the thought going round and round in his head: _I blew Sam Evans in the locker room_. It doesn't sound like it can be true, but he knows it is. His own little secret.

He pulls up in front of the house, but before he gets out he takes a moment to repeat to himself: _I blew Sam Evans in the locker room_. He actually went through with one of his half-baked late-night fantasies, and the results were _fantastic_.

(Getting out of the car, he knows he has a ridiculous grin on his face, but he can't seem to care).


End file.
